Replicated Angels

***A quick note to start the process of speaking to you all about a deep process I have to expose myself too, again. I will allow myself to tell my story in full a bit later ***

I saw a lady that reminded me of my mother this past Friday. I was stung. The moment sent me into that place I wish I could exist in more often.....
I could feel her. I knew it once again, that the love that was ripped from me still existed somewhere deep, deep within..... and behind, and bellow.... buried under years of learning to operate with a heart that had taken a beating. I fucking miss her, I miss that feeling. I get it sometimes, usually triggered by a moment that reminds me of a situation her and I existed in, but this time seeing a lady that looked like her......... what is a poor boy suppose to do? So I whimpered, bowed my head.... felt my eyes water up, and almost cried..... I was in NY the place her life found life..... It was a beautiful moment. She is still with me.... and yet, I miss her so much.... it almost, sometimes, controls my life.

Stop it.
Stop it, please.
No.... I actually need this.
You don't even see me.
You are not her.
You resemble her though
My angel
She no longer walks like you.
She was petit, like you
Dark and beautiful.
I want my soul back.
You are only a replication
So it is then
You don't see me
But I see her.
She still loves me
This is scary now.
How long will this feeling last.
I want to cry, I need too.
It feels real.
To be alive.
And now you fade away.
When will I see you again?
What must I face to feel like that
I will never touch you,
I need to let you know.
I think I still love you.
And don't know how
I can let go.
I just can not let go.
I need to let go.
I miss you.
Ma mere....
Alma.
Please come back.
I get so very scared here.
There are dark places
I do not understand
No one does
I once believed it was you
All I ever needed.
No one understands
Some tell me I am weak
I have been untrue
To what I knew of
When we played
And you rubbed my cheek
So soft
With the back of your hand.
Where do I go mother?
How strong must I be.
I am overcome
I am overcome
Too much beauty
Too much passion
For my trapped child
Can not embrace it all
Why am I holding strong
No one can guarantee me
That I will see you again
I am sorry.
I did not mean to bring you
Into this mess.